


Just For a Second

by estas_absentis



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 07:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9112318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estas_absentis/pseuds/estas_absentis
Summary: Trixie and Katya spend New Year's Eve together in West Hollywood.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is totally separate to Dress Up in You - this is just a smutty oneshot about Trixie and Katya IRL hanging out on NYE. Hope you enjoy!

Outside, fireworks pop and bang, and Trixie is trying not to look too hard at Katya as every loud, sudden noise makes her body flinch like a hummingbird.

 

Gender gets blurry around Katya, who is, of course, also called Brian, and something about the delicacy of her movements, the elegant curving of her joints and the downturning of her eyes in the rare moments of calm always makes Trixie slide into female pronouns when he thinks about her. He knows it doesn't really matter to the other man either way, he's read the interviews and endured enough lightning-fast midnight rambles to know that Katya and Brian defy classification, they are supernatural beings, that they are simply beautiful and that beautiful things do not always deal in absolutes.

 

Either way, Katya is a highly-strung man, and she seems unaware of her own rhythmic tensing in response to the gunpowder cracks that are increasing in frequency outside Trixie's WeHo apartment. Spending NYE indoors isn't necessarily what Trixie expected for his first festive season as an LA resident, but the rare coincidence of Katya and Trixie both being in town on the same night, and not working an NYE event, was enough to induce the pair to ring in the new year together, catching up and resting after the long holiday touring period.

 

Katya doesn't drink, of course, and Trixie wonders if that, too, is a reason for hanging out inside. It must take absolutely iron will to be in clubs nearly every night of your life and still hang on to (sort of) sobriety, but nights like this, so loaded with meaning and feeling, must be the hardest. Trixie himself is sipping a cocktail, mindful that he doesn't want to get too tipsy with Katya sober on his sofa, but not wanting to miss out entirely.

 

“It's like a wake,” Katya says, nodding at the live TV feeds from various NYE celebrations across the country, “ding-dong, the fucking hell year is dead”. Trixie smiles at her and answers mockingly “Still that sore about losing All Stars 2?”. He maintains a straight face for approximately one second before Katya's screeching, wheezing laugh bursts from her body and instantly cracks a grin across Trixie's face too. That amusement is infectious, it can't be helped – for all her flaws and her darkness, there's a pure joy inside Katya that's always waiting to come through. Trixie's favourite thing is provoking her enough to let it out.

 

This year's been a struggle for Katya mentally, Trixie knows that, that she feels things very deeply and takes politics personally in a way Trixie just doesn't – he doesn't not care, certainly isn't apathetic, but the dragtivist life ain't for him and he'll carry on doing his own thing while Katya's running herself ragged trying to make sense of the world, trying to find ways she can fix it.

 

They're both out of drag, and the hours have passed quickly so far, full of laughter and foul-mouthed, affectionate insults that convey more love than any declarations ever could. They'll never be together – they know that now, that their approaches to love and relationships are just too different for anything official to work – but that doesn't mean they don't care about each other endlessly and deeply and in a very complicated way.

 

It's 11:30pm and the fireworks have really increased in frequency now, the neighbours even getting in on the act, and as one particularly violent one cracks overhead and Katya does this bonkers recoiling double-chin motion in involuntarily discomfort, Trixie can't help but reach out and take Katya's small, long-fingered hand in his. Katya's eyes dart to his immediately, a question in her sharp features, and Trixie rubs his thumb over her knuckles, whispers “Jumpy...” by way of explanation.

 

Katya nods, mouth pressed into an accepting line as she maintains eye contact, and quietly says, in her unsettling way of being completely sincere out of nowhere, “Safe here. I feel that way, I mean.”.

She's looking down at their joined hands with something unbearably tender in her eyes, a soft smile pulling at the corners of her wide mouth. It's easy to forget, in this room, that they have lives and reasons outside of it not to do this. The air is heavy with every misfortune and mistake of the previous year, all the failings and disappointments, and also with the hope and promise and scared expectation for the next one. Trixie breathes it in heavily, sighing as he tilts his head onto the side of the couch and asks Katya what she's thinking about.

 

Her voice is a little lower than normal, but quiet, when she answers, her eyes still fixed on their hands “You. This. That I want to...” she trails off, raising her eyes to meet Trixie's, her expression difficult to read. She seems conflicted, desire warring with common sense, holding herself back from doing what she wants, which Trixie knows is one of the hardest things for Katya to do. She will always want to do everything, indulge every vice, live as hard as she possibly can.

 

Trixie knows it's wrong, but inside this little bubble, suspended between this year and the next, he absolutely can't help himself, just this once, from saying “Hey, we can be good next year, 'kay?”, all soft and gentle, as if he's promising to take her out for ice-cream, not telling her she's allowed to fuck him.

 

He guides her hand, which is still under his own, and slips two of her fingers into his mouth, locking eyes with her to see the exact moment when her pupils dilate, blackness spreading as her arousal flares and she exhales raggedly, pushing her fingers further, sliding them along Trixie's tongue. Trixie hollows his cheeks, slides up and down on Katya's fingers, swirling his tongue over and around them as he moves, eyes still fixed on the other man's.

 

Trixie moans very quietly around them and Katya breathes “ _Fuck_...” and slips them out, decisively declaring “Bedroom!” and gently shoving at Trixie's shoulders until he complies, standing and allowing Katya to manhandle him doorwards until they're in his pastel-pink room and Katya has him against the wall, kissing him like the last oxygen on earth is inside Trixie's chest and she needs it to breathe.

 

They've done this before, but very rarely, and every time they say it's the last. These momentary lapses where their desire for one another overpowers their reasons to stay away are so far and few between that Trixie is determined to enjoy every minute of it, moaning into Katya's mouth as she brushes her fingers down towards his belt, palming his cock through the denim and flicking his fly open with well-practiced ease. She moves her mouth along his jaw, kissing his neck and the sensitive skin behind his ears, her breath loud with proximity. Perfect white teeth graze his skin, but apply no pressure, just rest there like a threat or a promise.

 

Katya pushes Trixie's jeans down his legs, where they hang around his knees, belt buckle clinking against the wall as Katya pulls his boxers down too and gets her hand on his dick, spitting into her palm and jacking it slowly, rubbing her long thumb over the head and growling into his ear “Gonna fuck you...”

 

“Well, thanks, Captain Obvious,” Trixie replies automatically, a sarcastic little bitch to the end, and Katya sort of grunts in acknowledgement of the joke without laughing. She's so different in this context – not goofy or silly or even that girly, she's a tightly coiled spring loaded with intention. Every muscle in her lean body is focussed, her concentration on Trixie unwavering as she drops to her knees before him and takes him in her mouth.

 

Katya is fucking _amazing_ at sucking dick. She's such a _showman_ , for one, hollowing her cheeks and moaning like she's getting paid for it, taking Trixie in so far that her long eyelashes are nearly tickling his toned abdomen and then pulling back, massaging the underside of Trixie's cock with her tongue as she moves. One of her hands is massaging Trixie's balls, and the other is reaching behind him to palm his ass, squeezing and steadying herself at the same time. Trixie's not going to last much longer, not with the noises Katya's making, all slurping suction and tarty whining, like this is a treat for her as much as Trixie, which is such a fucking turn on. Trixie rubs his thumb over Katya's cheek, feeling his own cock moving inside her mouth, tracing her lips where they're stretched around him. He feels the warmth pooling in his stomach, like his body is marshalling its resources ready for orgasm, and manages to grunt warning to Katya, who pulls off his dick and makes firm, unyielding eye contact with him as she continues to pump his cock. He comes in hot stripes across her white cheeks and swollen red lips; she looks unbelievable.

 

Katya steps up from the floor and grabs a t shirt from Trixie's laundry basket, wiping off her face with an apologetic glance over to Trixie for further despoiling his clothing. Then she's back on him, kissing him hard on the mouth, where he tastes himself on her tongue. There's an urgency to her now, and when she leans in, Trixie feels her cock hard and insistent against his bare thigh. “Come on, then” Trixie whispers, and it's meant to sound challenging but it just sounds unbearably affectionate. Katya doesn't need telling twice, and she's pulling off her jeans as Trixie steps out of his own, pulling at Katya's shirt when he's done.

 

Both of their bodies have changed since last time they did this – Trixie's lost weight, gained muscle, his body harder and more compact, and Katya too is more muscled than before, her deep tan showing off the toned, athletic physique to full advantage. Every time this happens, something has changed – the way they look, who they're trying not to think about, what they're going to have to say when this is done – but for now there's no time for reflection, and Katya is guiding Trixie onto his back, a pillow under his hips. She's slicking her fingers with lube from Trixie's bedside table, which she pulled out along with a condom seconds earlier. Leaning down over Trixie for a long kiss, she slides one finger into his body. The sensation is a shock – the first slide of penetration always is, it's like part of Trixie's body waking up – and he gasps into Katya's mouth as she gently slides the finger in and out, waiting for Trixie to relax before she adds another, gently scissoring them to stretch Trixie out for her.

 

Katya builds to three fingers, meticulous and agonising in her preparation, Trixie's breath hitching in the quiet room as Katya fucks him with her hand, crooking her fingers and pushing again and again at that spot inside Trixie that makes his body sing. “Ready?” she whispers, her voice gravelly with desire, and Trixie's whispered “Yeah” just sounds like another heaving breath. Katya smiles and pulls away from him, gently sliding her fingers out of his body. The loss feels strange and Trixie feels open and vulnerable as Katya slides on the condom, lubing up her cock and lining it up against Trixie's entrance.

 

She pushes in a fraction, taking her time, considerate of Trixie's comfort as ever. Trixie's so well prepared, it doesn't hurt, just aches slightly as her cock pushes into him, the feeling of being stretched and filled so overwhelming and hot that Trixie screws his eyes shut, can't help moaning Katya's name out loud. This is all the encouragement she needs, and she bottoms out, fully inside him now.

 

Katya leans over Trixie and captures his mouth in a passionate kiss as she starts to move, moaning in a low register as she gains speed and finds a rhythm. Trixie is fairly restrained, noise-wise, but Katya is a noisy lover, and she's grunting with every thrust into him. There's something so primal about that, and every noise goes straight to Trixie's dick, which is hard again and straining in between himself and Katya. Suddenly electric jolts through his body as Katya angles her hips differently, and he moans involuntarily at the shock of pleasure, Katya hitting his prostate at every thrust now. She's got one hand supporting herself on the bed beside him, and the other is cupping Trixie's jaw, possessively keeping him in place.

 

They keep this pace for a couple of minutes before Katya moves her hand to Trixie's cock, which is so slick with precome and sweat that her hand glides perfectly along it, just the right amount of friction. Her thrusts are getting more erratic as she approaches climax, pumping Trixie in time with them. She grunts his boy name, once - “Brian!” - and then Trixie's coming for the second time tonight, painting both of their chests. Katya, now she doesn't have to hold back for Trixie, pushes into him with renewed force, slamming into Trixie and growling “ _Fuck_ ” as she comes.

 

Trixie lays in his crumpled up sheets as Katya kisses him once and slides off of him, tying the condom and popping into the en-suite bathroom to dispose of it. When she comes back, she's got a damp washcloth in her hand, and she does her best to give them both a cursory rubdown before she flops down next to him and rests her head on his chest. She's so little, and Trixie always forgets it when they're apart, is always surprised to be towering over her when they meet again. He slides one gym-toned arm around her small frame and kisses the top of her head gently.

 

Outside, the new year is beginning. Inside, everything is still, just for a second.


End file.
